


Childish Anger

by TratserEnoyreve



Category: Little Nightmares (Video Game)
Genre: -slaps hood of pale city- man these kids can fit so much trauma, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Death, Body Horror, C-PTSD, Character Study, Eventual Friendship, Gen, Spoilers, Survivor Guilt, Trauma, basically references to violence present in the games, eldritch horror, gore mention, like full end of the game spoilers, like very eventual we’ll get there when we get there, you like worldbuilding i like worldbuilding lets do that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29506002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TratserEnoyreve/pseuds/TratserEnoyreve
Summary: Mono runs after Six, trying his best to outrun everything else that’s happened.(Ending Spoilers for the game)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 294





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Literally wrote this in like two sittings with my brain near bursting with Feelings about the little nightmares world and comics. This does pull some references to the comics and not just the game.

The Tower was just a shape. A looming, overbearing, overwhelming, shape. That he, this tiny little boy, reached out and pulled towards himself, forcefully bending the Pale City. This shape that had dominated the skyline, haunted his vision, now made to sit in front of him. As if recognizing how he had no intent to be anywhere else, the massive structure swung wide its entrance, unnatural magenta light spilling across the street, raindrops shaking in spiraling ripples still away from the boy’s feet.

In spite of being so exposed ( _when had he last let his head go uncovered?_ ), drenched to the bone with unrelenting rain ( _he couldn’t think of the last time the presence of heat didn’t also come with terror_ ), Mono strode into the Tower with purposeful steps ( _barefoot, calloused and numb now to the rough ground_ ). The door shut behind him.

The inside of the Tower was doused in magenta light, foggy and dream-like. Household objects floated as if in slow motion. With the Thin Man gone ( _was he really gone?_ ) Mono could move normally, it was no longer as though he were walking through sludge ( _he could remember the texture still of how it mixed with the offal_ ) and so he continued on, thinking only of once again recovering the other kid, his companion.

As if teasing him, the first open door Mono saw promptly closed as he approached. To his right, another opened, a tune faintly playing. It dawned on him that it’d been playing before, its return punctuated after the brief silence of the closed door ( _it’d played somewhere else before here, too, it tickled the back of his mind_ ). He followed after it, his traversal through the doorway accompanied with a rising hum as space distorted and his vision briefly flashed.

He was getting used to it, his body felt like static already ( _every time he jumped through a television he felt like he was going faster, the mass beyond saw less of him, the jumpcut from the viewers wails to rain on sheetmetal less harsh_ ), a sense of numbness and adrenaline ( _he’d hit his head hard, so hard, his vision was strained, leaving the train cart to follow after the shadow of the other child_ ) was all that was letting him continue his rescue.

The melody reverberated through the haze of the Tower, more doors, the pale blue air punctuated with that bright dreamy pink. He didn’t know where he was going, just to who, just like the other times ( _laughter, the ladder being raised before he could reach, frantic urgency in his chest, the bullies carrying her somewhere upstairs, so he did his best to find where upstairs was_ ). The song grew louder from one of the doors, he learned this was good, the Tower let him go higher.

Towering staircases, unreadable books, more doors, with Mono running headlong into the unknown spaces, determined to do what he’d done before for this kid,( _what made them different than the others? a flash of heat, fire, rising from beneath, all of them cornered, the door padlocked, many children grasping upwards. then it was raining indoors, the sprinklers, then it was an arm outstretched, plucking them one by one, Mono motionless, Mono hiding in the television_.) the only one he’d managed to do this for. ( _the building buckled and crumbled, soggy and rotten, it must have been so heavy, she reached out her hands, a hoarse “hey” as though she feared he wouldn’t bother with her if she didn’t try to get his attention, he ignored the broken flashlight and his soreness to reach out and pull and pull, hoping the city would release them_.)

Further up he went, funnily the Tower seemed much smaller on the inside than he thought it would be, or perhaps it was just startlingly empty. Each hallway was a flash of places as decrepit as the ones outside, as though it was all the Tower knew ( _Mono wondered when he’d last seen a clean room, wondered if he’d ever cleaned his_ ). The music seemed to be getting louder, he took that to mean progress, even when transitions between doors made his ears pop from the abrupt volume change ( _he thought he’d gone deaf from the shotgun blast, ears ringing, his pulse high and thrumming in his skull_ ). Upward and forward and left and across the hole in the floor and up and up until he was in a hallway, a door at the far end echoing the familiar song ( _he recognized it now, from the cabin, being played by the kid he had thought was dead, who he had seen looking up at him from the forest floor in the middle of the night, who he had seen be caged and dragged away by the hunter, into the dark, dark guilt gnawing his insides, as he found that cabin and that kid_ ).

Mono pressed against the door with all his might, and it swung open, and a sharp pang hitched in his throat.

Against the wall, beside piles of dolls and teddy bears and drawings, was a giant yellow figure hunched over an oversized music box, a twisted arm rotating the crank, face obscured by a thick curtain of black hair and a raincoat hood. It was the same kid, only she wasn’t the same right now, and his mind was racing with what may happen next ( _so many people twisted, faces spiraled until they were gone, stretched obscenely, a neck going on and on and on and-_ ), he swallowed thickly, not having had any other plans than to just find her.

Not knowing what else to do, Mono walked into the room, and Six flinched. Mono oddly couldn’t find himself able to feel fear, instead he softly called out “hi” ( _“hey”, he said, holding out a hand to the other child who cowered beneath the bed, who had last seen him staring motionless in the moonlight as they were taken away, he was fine with them shoving him aside, they were right to be harsh and distrustful_ ). To Mono’s great surprise, Six responded by shuffling away from the wall, tentatively, towards him, carrying with her the music box.

To be recognized had Mono elated, he walked to the door that he had come from, now shut, and motioned for Six again, calling for them to follow. The stretched and contorted figure that was Six hobbled a little further across the room, but rather than head for the exit, instead sat and nestled near a pile of stuffed toys, looking down at the music box in her gigantic hands ( _they were in the courtyard of the school, Mono looking up at the clock, looking for a way in, as Six wandered and kicked a ball into the goal_ ). Mono wondered why she hesitated, the kidnapper was gone, he came back for her, they could leave now. He pressed against the door, too short to reach the handle, and tried to beckon his companion again, “Psst, hey!”

Six looked up at Mono, or he assumed she did through that thick mass of hair, but did not move to get up. Instead, she slid the music box towards him, as if offering to share. He didn’t know what to do with it. Mono approached Six and the music box. It was much larger than him, parts glowing with the same dreamy light as the room, churning out the lullaby-like song. He circled around it once, confused. Six pulled the box back towards herself, bent arm returning to spinning the crank. Mono experimentally tried to pull Six’s free hand, determined to convince her somehow to leave. She allowed the contact but otherwise didn’t seem too interested, looking down at only the music box.

The unexpected calm made Mono feel incredibly heavy. Uneasy, he wandered around the room. So many toys ( _as he lugged the large stuffed rabbit, Six grabbed a toy donkey off the floor, following him into the elevator. he chucked the plush animal into the incinerator, Six doing the same with the donkey. she had to have known what he was about to do, the furnace flashing alight. she seemed startled for a moment, but then gazed into the flames curiously, the toy donkey’s voicebox playing loudly as it burned_ ), stacks of dolls ( _the porcelain shattered into pieces across the floor, hammer heavy in his hands, hands skittering across the floor like bugs, Mono breaking the hands with a hammer, Six breaking a mannequin’s hand with her own_ ), the wallpaper gave the impression of eyes and he instinctively lowered his gaze to the floor, seeing the smashed contents of a large luggage trunk, two photos pinned to the inside of its lid, a hammer sat on the ground.

It held no meaning for him, it just confused him more. This room being the way it was, Six being so heavily distorted, the music seemed to seep under his skin, he felt heavy, standing still. Wearily, Mono walked back to Six ( _she looked at him expectantly, already holding a fuse in her hands, how nice they had both had the same idea, he thought, after he had gone through so many not so nice things to get this_ ) and Six made no motion to stop him as he leaned into the crook of her still arm.

Mono breathed and sat and watched the repetitive action, as though he were dreaming. The tune circled seamlessly, a simple song, so simple you could hum it ( _the televisions blared noise over and over, making his head feel like it was going to split, he watched as the adults stared deeper and deeper, absorbed by it, trying to press their entire body into-_ ) He felt a deep chill, realizing how Six was sat, her whole body bent over this device. When the box seemed ready to slow she would spin the crank once more, keeping it running, and Mono briefly thought of, if he left her to it, how her arm may twist more and more, become a winding spiral, stretching and stretching and-

The music was no comfort to him. Being still was terrifying. Being still let him feel all the bruises, the exhaustion, his chest tightened at the thought of being too tired to get back up again. He jolted upright, making Six startle a bit, before she relaxed and returned to the cycle of winding the box ( _a box cage hanging in a tree, a glint of yellow caught his attention. Six watched as Mono climbed up and made it fall to the ground with an impressive bang, flinging the door off. inside was a yellow rain hat, which Mono pocketed, trying to not think of how long the kid who’d worn it previously had been still here, alone_ ).

He looked at the music box, and then the door, and then to Six. He gestured at the door, calling to her again, more immediacy in his voice. Six hardly looked up. Mono felt something bitter in himself. He pulled at Six’s monstrous hand, trying to get her to stop staring into the music box. She simply pushed him aside, as gentle as a monster could be, and went back to doing the same thing again ( _he tried to pull someone away from the television, maybe he knew them, he tried, it hurt his head so badly, they tried to hurt him so badly_ ).

“Hey,” he said, more insistent. Six sighed a little, then once again offered him the music box, nudging it towards him, inviting him to go back to simply sharing the space. Mono felt sharp bitter things in his chest, looking around for some way to make Six stop, to make that music box stop.

His eyes settled back on the hammer.

He hefted it, the weight now familiar in his hands, and just as it crested in the air he could see Six recognize what he was doing and raise her hands, but it was too late, the head of the hammer connected with the music box and sparks shot out, Six jerking back as though in pain.

The room flashed. Mono was in a dark, empty space. A sound like static droned and then- The room flashed, the walls fraying at the edges, and Mono wearily stood up. Six also was recovering from the momentary daze, protectively clutching the dented music box as the building around them shook and walls crumbled. And Mono realized she was angry. With a howl, Six started to lunge, and Mono ran, feeling somewhat accomplished, he got her to move, he got her to move again. She chased, Mono dodging her wild tantrum, and he hid beneath a table as soon as he escaped her sight. Six charged further onward, and Mono, brazenly, followed after her. Rooms warped, fleshy tissue seeping from the cracks ( _bathtubs with cold corpses, swarms of flies audibly marking them, organs overflowing out of sinks and into buckets_ ), he followed drag marks to a door, an axe wedged into it. He pried the axe out and swung.

He tumbled into the next room and Six jerked back, holding the music box close. Mono braced for her to lunge at him again, but she didn’t. Somehow this only frustrated him more, that she wouldn’t let go of this music box, that she wasn’t still angry at him. He hefted the axe and walked towards her, hoping to make her back away. Instead, Six curled defensively.

Shaking, Mono yelled, “HEY!” The Tower multiplied it ten-fold, the shout ricocheting off the walls and Six reacting as though she’d been struck. She flailed, Mono ducking back through the glowing doorway only to appear on the other side of the room, Six so absorbed in striking where he’d been that it gave him time to line up and strike the music box once more. Again, Six shriveled as if in pain, the room flashing.

A dark room, abysmally dark, with a single door. A door with an axe, which he picked up and swung down and-

Six was there again, holding the music box, and Mono wanted to break it. His shouting cut at her, and as she lashed back he ran through the doorways, lining up another shot, swinging with his entire body.

Dark room. The axe. A door. He breaks it. He knows Six will be angry with him, hate him like the rest of the world does ( _static shadows dot the buildings, Mono walking up to them, watching them pantomime some final action where they must have last been. he wonders if Six can see them too, as she says nothing as he reaches out and hugs the air, crumpling for a moment, head buzzing, guilt gnawing_ ). Still, he needs to break it. The music box, the televisions, the door. So she can go outside.

The building is less building and more fleshy tissue, masses bulging from the walls that are falling apart, writhing just beneath the exposed foundation. Mono gets up off the floor, dragging the axe with him. Six is already up and protecting the music box with her hands, debris scattered to either side of her. Mono yells and she flinches, covering her head. He strikes the music box and it pops. Six is crying, shakily raising an arm, her form shrinking, reaching for the music box. The music box is leaking magenta light, bursting at the seams. And Mono breaks it, a final flash, Six shrinking back in on herself. 

And then he has done it. Six, as she was before, no longer a stretched out twisted shape. Mono looks to her, feeling success, and recognizes how her own gaze is boring a hole into him ( _as they crouched, he could feel the resentment radiating off of Six, her eyes glaring daggers in the back of a bully’s porcelain head. she had all the reason to, but Mono found himself pulling her along by the hand, picking up the hammer himself, and crushing the doll in her place_ ).

With no time for even the dust to settle, the Tower groaned and shook, the last of the walls caving in and giving way to a mountain of flesh, a massive eye opening and staring at the two children. Six sprinted and Mono chased after ( _shotgun fire rang in his ears, barely missing him, Mono scrambling to get across, the floor giving out underneath him. Six stopped and grabbed him, pulling him up, another blast opening a hole right beside them_ ).

They ran as fast as they could, as fast as they always did, as the mass bore down on them, ( _shelves toppled one after another, barely missing his head, the wheezing massive doctor just behind_ ) more and more eyes opening and staring at them.

The Tower was falling apart, gushing, writhing, and Mono could feel with each step the floor beneath him giving way, as though it were dissolving ( _they pressed as hard as they could against the double doors, when it finally gave way it was so abrupt Mono found himself falling head over heels, Six yelping in distress, grabbing his arms just in time as he dangled over an abyss with beds precariously suspended in the air_ ).

He was prepared for Six to be angry with him, she could be as angry as she wanted as soon as they were outside, outside of the Tower, outside of the Pale City, it would be her turn to yell at him all she wanted, until she was hoarse, until his ears bled. He could see her ahead of him, the narrow bit of ground falling to pieces. He thought of how his arms were covered with scratches, how hers probably were too, with nails dug desperately to support one another. His ears were ringing as he leapt the chasm and, just like so many times before, he clasped his hand with Six, hanging from her grip. Mono thought of how sore his palms were, how forcefully he had to cling. He looked to Six’s face.

And was struck with the thought that he actually had never seen Six yell in anger. That her anger was silent. That he wasn’t really ready at all for her to be angry with him.


	2. Wordless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flash of mutual distrust leading to mutual survival, but at what cost?

It was an unexpectedly violent skirmish. Mono felt Six’s grip waver and, in that moment, felt something primal rise up in him with a vengeance. He snatched her arm with both of his own and she recoiled, pulling him up in the same movement, Mono kicking against the crumbling rocky ground as they tumbled back and away from the chasm. Six was panicked by the motion, kneeing Mono’s gut as he landed. Shaking him loose, Six bolted for the exit, Mono fast on her heels with a hand on his gut as the fleshy interior of the Signal Tower continued to swell towards him.

A rising hum and then the familiar static riddled flash, Mono collapsing onto a rug, Six spun in place to stare at him and the television.

They were gulping air like beached fish. Mono’s thoughts were racing, repulsed by the images of the mounds of flesh and massive eyes still swimming in his vision, how shaky his whole body felt from being nearly crushed again, then it finally settled in.

_ (Did Six really-) _

He looked up at her and she pressed against the back wall of the room, stepping away. His mind flashed to how her grip had loosened as he hung over that ledge.

_ (She was going to drop him.) _

Mono felt something bitter and thick in his chest. Anger, or something like it, he wasn’t sure. Frustration was part of it for sure. He didn’t want to believe it though, and spoke up, “You just slipped, right?” Six was clutching her arms close to herself. “You didn’t mean to kick me, right?” He asked these things even knowing it wasn’t fully possible for her to answer him. Six was still breathing hard, and Mono realized she was glaring at him.

He no longer had his paper bag mask, so she was staring with sharp hatred at his own face, and Mono could feel it cutting deep.

_ (She had tried to drop him.) _

Mono’s breaths grew shaky, the heavy thing in his chest pulsed painfully.

_ (Six had tried to abandon him.) _

His mind was clouded with a storm of clashing upset thoughts. After everything, Six would-? But no, Six had stayed so many times, even this time, just to catch him, so why- Hadn’t he helped her so many times when she’d been trapped, didn’t that matter, otherwise they would have been alone, alone in a scary violent place, with nobody to pick them back up when they fell.

But, he realized. He had already known it before, just tried to forget. The world hated him, it’s why he had hid. Six had seen his face now and hated him for it too. That must be it. Even so, as he tried to rationalize it with what he thought was the truth, he still felt so hurt, and it made him clench his fists and shake.

He inhaled, tiny frame silhouetted by the television behind him, and went to yell in demand of answers when the static screeched and washed away any words he may have tried to say. It was shriller than it had ever been before, scratching his brain, making him clutch his head in a vain attempt to block out some part of the sound.

His vision strained, Six was covering her ears as well, but she also still had the fortitude to begin to make headway out of the room. “Wait,” Mono tried to say, inaudible in the deluge of static, trying to get away from the television with all his might. He had gotten as far as the other side of a dilapidated sofa before collapsing on the ground. He fought hard to remain conscious, tried to see where it was Six was running to, but it slipped from him, everything becoming harsh noise, him curling up in agony on the floor.

Images haunted him. Outstretched plastic hands from every side, cold on his skin, clawing motions at his face before they melted into an amorphous mass. It boiled, churned, then boils became eyes, of many colors and sizes but all larger than him, staring at him. He simultaneously felt dread from being so watched by so many while also feeling desperately alone. Mono found himself so struck by these emotions that the nightmare robbed him of the will to scream. He buried his face in his hands, trying to force the vision away. He could feel their gazes still, a droning hum growing louder and louder until-

_** ker-BANG ** _

Glass shattered, electric wiring and tubing popped and sizzled.

Mono lay still for a moment, taking in just how relieving it was for there to be silence. The dim pattering of the rain outside was like nothing compared to what sounds had just pummeled his little head. Breathing still through his hands, he wondered if he could get away with laying here still longer. Then a growling sound rumbled.

Startled, Mono sat upright, backing up into the sofa and trying to see the source. It was immediately apparent, Six shockingly still present, arms holding her gut as she half bent in clear discomfort, huffing as she looked towards the television broken in with what looked to be a brick laying inside. Mono momentarily thought he saw two of Six, a static afterimage, likely a lingering effect of his splitting headache.

Seeing him looking at her, Six made eye contact, her body freezing. They were at some kind of impasse. Mono struggled to discern what it was running through Six’s mind, their face obscured with messy bangs of dark hair. He stood, with some effort, and Six held her ground. They were sizing eachother up, Mono realized, like they would an obstacle in a room.

Another growling noise. Mono briefly thought Six was going to lunge, that it was the sound of her deciding he absolutely was an enemy, but instead the other child doubled over, squeezing her sides. It was her stomach gurgling.

Reflexively, Mono took a couple steps towards the kid who’d been his companion for a long harrowing journey, holding out his hands in spite of the hurt he felt. Six flinched and scrambled away from him.

It struck Mono and killed his thoughts of Six going on the attack. Six was scared of him. She was terrified.

His hands fell to his sides. He didn’t have the heart to try and ask her anything more, to say anything at all, it’d always been for his own sake when he did anyways. Instead, he walked away, clambering up a shelf to a windowsill, rain dripping in, and left Six alone.


	3. Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six is doing their best.

Six felt frustrated, exhausted, and, funnily, validated by what had just transpired. Hunger pangs subsiding as she chugged a sugary soda, her shaking lessened. In the end, the only person they could truly depend on was themself. It had taken a hell of a lot to hammer that point in, just as it’d taken Mono multiple attempts to smash to pieces what trust they had developed. A sense of vindication to her fears made them feel, in an ironic way, better about the situation they were in.

_ (She knew he was trying to be helpful, in a way, but good intentions leading to her being hurt wasn’t new. People were capable of being incredibly cruel in trying to be kind for another.) _

Even when Six had first spotted that weird boy, who she later was exhaustingly _(patiently, in whispers and emphatic hand gesturing)_ made to learn was called “Mono”, she’d felt like he lived in an entirely different world than she did. Six regretted having gawked for so long at him, Mono up in a tree only visible thanks to the clear moonlight on that night, his paper bag mask fully hiding his head, Six remembering only the blank eye-holes staring after her as she was caged by the Hunter. Their rage then had been great, at themself for being so stupid as to stand in the open, at the cage, at the monstrous man who toted her back to his cabin like a wild caught rabbit.

Back then, Six had clawed at the door of the room she was kept in, the Hunter locking doors of the house to keep her from wandering. It wasn’t unfamiliar, to be kept like some prized thing for a future use, and the need to escape eventually waned into just surviving each day, her anger at the world quieting from a flame to hot briquettes, no longer destructive and instead a source of warmth and determination she clung to.

The longer Six stayed like that, however, the more she’d felt her will to fight begin to die. She thought of how out of place in the world she was, unable to understand the guttural words the Hunter tried to puff out as he slid bowls of meaty stew to her, Six trying to not think too hard of its contents after relenting that she really needed to eat if she were going to keep going. Then, there was that music box.

Initially, it was a way to pass time. But, the more the tune played, the more Six found themself unable to imagine anything beyond the sort of situation they were already in. They were a stranger here, moving from cage to cage. If she stayed alive another day, what difference would it make? The monsters would still be there. That internal fire was becoming cold ashes.

And then Mono broke the door.

With an axe, no less, tho as she reflected back on that moment he had had the mind to drop the weapon when he approached, stooping down and slowing, trying to be non-threatening. All she could see of him now was something strange and monstrous, made of static, unpredictable and painful. _(A t.v. turned on by itself, for what must have been the third time now. Six was unsettled, tried to linger behind the doorway, but Mono clutched his head and staggered onward. She didn’t understand it, why he went towards this thing that was hurting him. Once more, she grabbed him around the torso and pulled back as hard as she could, terrified of how he was halfway through the television. His body hummed like static, a wrongness to it all.)_

Six picked at the top of the can of soda, grimacing to herself. Mono may have ran after her through the cabin, but it was Six who beckoned him to help, asked him to help, hoisted him up to reach the attic where she new the Hunter kept a house key. Fresh anger curdled in her gut. Six flattened the can against the brick wall with the palm of her hand.

How stupid of them to have trusted so blindly. So quickly.

_ (As soon as Six had offered, Mono took to pulling them along by the hand. In a moment of quiet, after the beach, the boy began to try and speak to Six. She didn’t understand a word he said, and while it didn’t surprise her, it didn’t make it any less disappointing. She stayed silent, watching him try to convey something to her, his tone still low but softly conversational, pausing like he was waiting for a response. Eventually, it seemed to dawn on him that Six couldn’t understand him, he started making his sentences shorter, moving his hands. That still didn’t work. He gestured to himself, “Mono.” And pointed to Six, then turned his hands up in a requesting motion. It clicked, finally, that he was introducing himself.) _

Six dug her hands into the pockets of the yellow raincoat. It was raining still, the sky overcast, the Pale City leaning in crooked angles, perhaps even more disorganized, Six thought, than when they had first seen it. As her gaze wandered up the street from the storefront she stood beside, her eyes settled on her own flickering shadow sat atop a building’s sign board. They were kicking their feet playfully and, as if knowing they’d been acknowledged, looked down and faded.

Six didn’t know what to think of it. The sign wasn’t even of anything she could find important, lettering in a language she didn’t know. But seeing themself like that made her feel as though there were a gap in their chest, something vacant.

They were still peckish, so entered the store, aiming to scavenge something more filling than soda.

After getting away from the upper apartments, pointedly in a direction away from where Mono had gone, Six had _(dizzily, weakly)_ made their way down a fire escape, taking to the streets in search of. Just somewhere else to be. Pale City sucked, they didn’t care for any of it, how it was so deeply rotted that the streets were falling apart. Six made a mental note to watch out for collapsing apartments, their midriff bruised and sore, trying to swallow down the bitter feelings of betrayal that surged thinking about who had pulled them out from the wreckage.

The store was partially flooded, the floor sagging, a drain meant to prevent just this chugging water as best it could. Six clambered up the shelves, getting a better vantage point on the shops’ contents. Canned goods, perfect. She hopped across and over and started to sift through them. Canned corn ( _blech_ ), canned tomatoes ( _not ketchup and thus not an edible form of tomato_ ), canned beans ( _hmm, a strong maybe_ ), and then she found it, a treasure among trash.

Six leapt off the shelf with her prize and sought a usable counter to bash it against. With a couple good whacks, she popped the can, with just some moderate juice spillage. They couldn’t remember the last time they’d had some pears, the sweetness was overwhelming after having been on a diet of mystery meat stew for some time, and Six relished it.

Slurping a bit messily, Six considered what it was she wanted to do next. They decided on finding somewhere to rest, as dry as possible, they’d spent way too long soaked through, still wearing their old wet button up shirt and shorts underneath the raincoat. It was some weird twist of chance to have stumbled into this coat, of all the coats that there could be. Six supposed in a weird way it made sense, she’d drifted to this place across the sea, why wouldn’t the coat have too.

Content with the meal, Six headed back out into the rain in pursuit of a building that looked like it had at least a few days left before it would drop.

————-

Something was wrong. With the entire city, not to say it was right beforehand but something had definitely shifted, it felt like there was an audience waiting in anticipation of something. Six was creeping past a crowd of Viewers who, from her experiences before, should be so absorbed in the warped commercial jingle playing from the tube television they crowded around that nothing else should matter. She’d been able to sprint by them before, so long as there was a little distance and she didn’t interrupt their viewing.

And yet, as she tried to go along her way, she found herself ducking behind trash as one of the warped adults would randomly look away from the television, as though they were hearing her. Six was thankful that her nerves were so high and so honed that she could practically feel when one of the Viewers’ attention was drifting.

Steadily, Six made her way into what looked like a pub. They didn’t know much about pubs, just that this building in particular had a lot of bottles and smelled of old nicotine and smoke, with bar stools lined up to a counter, empty clothing laid out like someone had tried to arrange outfits while doing laundry. There was a stairwell that they then clambered up, hopping over broken steps. Upstairs was another sitting room, chairs and tables set as though they’d been recently used.

Another television sat on a table, dead potted plants to either side. Stacks of plates lit by ceiling lamps that hissed and fizzed when flies bumped against them. There was a crack in the wall beneath the table the t.v. sat on, which Six inspected. As she’d thought, there was room in the wallspace, and it seemed secure enough.

Six pulled a tablecloth down from one of the seating arrangements, plates clattering and breaking on the floor. She gave it a shake and crammed it through into the wallspace. With the makeshift nest, they finally felt secure enough to take off the raincoat and drape it on a wall nail, curling up and falling fast asleep right after.

Their dreams were more texture than anything. Dust to salty air, sunbeams broken by cold water, the taste of iron. Metal against their hands, a rock pressed by their hands, feet wet, feet running through mud, then grass. Tree trunks with rough bark and the taste of rot, and then a persistent scratchy cloth texture across their arms.

They buried themself further into the tablecloth, wishing for the dreams to be empty for once.


	4. Cloudy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s overcast, the horizon isn’t even visible, all that rain water has to go somewhere.

Mono skidded down a ways before recovering his footing, walking along the rooftop until it ended and he hopped to the next. The landing shook him, dull aches across his whole body, but he kept moving, he focused on just moving now. To get away, far away, somehow. He moved more slowly than he remembered going before, it made him feel pangs of panic.

He snuffled in the rain. There wasn’t a place for him in this world, it seemed like, or at least not here. He inhaled sharply when a misstep made his entire right side zing with pain. He paused to hold his side, breathing to calm the ache, and in that moment took in his surroundings.

The Tower still loomed in the distance, a massive structure, and yet it looked diluted somehow. The rain made the skyline hazy, giving the building the illusion of having a messy outline, like it was vibrating. Mono noticed that the light that shone atop it was duller. That’s why it didn’t seem as imposing anymore, the beacon of the Signal wasn’t as piercing as it’d been before.

That was something, at least, that was one thing Mono was able to accomplish. But he still felt horrible. He didn’t know what to do now. He felt as aimless as he’d been when he’d first started trying to hide away.

The City hadn’t always been like this, this was something he knew. Exactly how it started was something that made his head hurt trying to think of, a blur of emotions. He, like many other children of the City, had been unprepared for how different the world suddenly was. It was tempting to say it was gradual, like a slow boil in a pot, but it felt more like a series of small disasters. He stumbled and grabbed a satellite dish, its shape reminiscent of an eye. Being this close, with that bit of contact, he could feel the metal pulsing under his hands, and it scared him. He pushed off and away from it, clambering down to a fire escape stairwell.

Not everyone disappeared all at once. It was in parts, which may have been why he and many others had stayed in the City for so long. There had still been time for people to shop, and cook, and plan trips abroad. There had been cartoons and cooking shows and people in fancy clothes with nice hats telling the news. But then something started calling out, pulling people in. That Transmission, spreading across the City like a flu, where people were suddenly getting more televisions for their homes, for their workplace, bedrooms, bathrooms. It initially asked for them to just to watch. Mono had watched for a little while, but then it made his head hurt. Then it demanded people watch and Mono had fled.

His grip was tenuous on the railing. He needed to get across to the other side where there was an open window, but a burst gutter was spewing rainwater like a hose. ( _Mono had been walking for a while, alone, when he was delighted to find himself with a group. Joy was dulled with a flash of self consciousness, nervously touching his face, reassured by the presence of his paper bag. The other children didn’t need to know what he was like to let him follow._ ) He weighed his options, the stairwell below him a broken mess, clotheslines spanning the gap. Making a decision, Mono picked up a hanger and chose the sturdiest looking of the lines, swinging across to the other side, getting completely soaked by the gutter water in the process. If it weren’t already raining, it would have been more shocking for the cold, instead it just sped up the boy’s transformation into what was basically a walking wet rag.

He shook like a dog, sneezing to clear his nose and wiping his face with his hands to get the water out of his eyes. ( _He remembered the group of children was very disorganized, even though many seemed to have been from a shared place, uniforms of overalls and white shirts. They were very scared, a couple groups forming daisy-chains with their hands as they moved in uncertain paths through the building. Then there was smoke. A fire, kids running from the stairwell. Mono went to run as well and fell through the floor, stuck watching in fear as the other children tried and failed to work together to undo the padlocked door._ )

The floor creaked, he could feel the boards bend as he trotted along. Mono could see the main entrance of the apartment, but was too short to reach. He sighed, tired. There had to be something he could drag up to the door to get to the handle. ( _The other children cried, mumbled questions about what was happening, fire crackling. He couldn’t reach back up to where they were, and none of them knew him well enough to value his company like he did theirs. The sprinklers came on and they were all drenched, the fire smothered. Mono dared to hope maybe now they would notice he’d fallen, only to see an arm up above begin grabbing the children one by one. He didn’t do anything for them, their cries starting anew. Mono ran away and hid, all on his own._ )

A loose drawer, fallen from its dresser, contents spilled across the floor. He dug it out from the mess and started to try and yank it. His entire body protested so harshly to the exertion it made him yelp. He stood, gasping, holding his side. Mono didn’t want to hold still, not yet, he hadn’t gone far enough yet. ( _The television had been long broken, dust settled on its internal components, Mono scrambling into it and hugging his knees close, shallow breaths. Footsteps, an adult. The way they walked was wrong, like a doll dangled from a string. They were so tall Mono couldn’t see their face, he hoped they couldn’t see him. They didn’t, body cracking sickeningly, twisting and going back where they’d came from. All the other children were gone. As soon as it was quiet, Mono ran away, leaving them all behind._ )

It was very heavy, nearly too heavy to move at all on his own. He fought against himself, dragging the drawer in increments across the floor. He’d get a little ways and then need to stop, panting and taking sharp little inhales, his injuries catching up to him. ( _As he ran, the Tower stood above him, above the City skyline, and made him feel smaller than he already was. It felt like it was pulling him towards itself and, rebelliously, Mono refused it. He’d seen how it had transfixed the adults, who began to neglect everything else around them for the sake of consuming more shows. Children crying for dinner when their parents began to forget to even feed themselves. The televisions he passed blared jingles and songs, a siren trying to find what lullaby might tempt him._ )

This would have to do, it’d be a bit of a leap but if he could just grab the handle the door should swing open, and then he could continue on his way. Mono clambered on top of the upturned drawer and braced, knowing now what angles made his side hurt most. He sprinted for extra distance and momentum then leapt and clung onto the handle, the door swinging wide. It creaked loudly and then Mono felt his gut sink, the door lurched, frame buckling, a hinge breaking. Half the floor was missing and he could see it was a very long way down. He swung and reached for the floorboards, just barely grabbing them in time for the door to fall completely off its hinges behind him, crashing down the floors. He clambered up and then laid there, dizzy.

( _He just ran. For days, maybe weeks. Until the Pale City was far behind him, until most of the televisions that beckoned were distant hums, until he was lost. The woods were thick and helped Mono feel covered, hidden. There were way fewer people out here, no one to acknowledge him, how could they when they were dead. Traps of all kinds littered the forest floor so Mono climbed his way up into the canopy. He finally stopped and rested and found himself overwhelmed with it all._

_ Then, there was movement below. He turned to look, wondering if he could still run further, only to freeze in place. Another kid, in a button up shirt and shorts, stared at him from below. He wondered how long they’d been running, grass stains on their legs. _

_ And then they were taken, a cage flung over them. Mono quaked where he sat, helpless, so helpless. Something was so different about this time. _

_ It had been his fault. If he hadn’t have been there, that kid would not have stopped to look at him, they wouldn’t have been captured. It all crashed down on him, guilt, the unfairness of how he could just sit there and watch while all the others were taken. He found himself crying. It was all the Tower’s fault. If it didn’t exist, none of this would have ever happened. People wouldn’t be staring into the televisions, they wouldn’t be disappearing, his head wouldn’t hurt. He wouldn’t have had to run away. His pain grew into rage. _

_He needed to stop the Transmission._ )

Mono pulled himself back onto his feet. He was exhausted. His mind was struggling on ideas of escape, single-minded determination desperate for something to focus on, but it was hard for him to muster genuine focus.

( _It was like a switch had clicked in his head. Mono stared down the t.v. and, as though it were responding to him, it flashed alive, bright light and static in the glade where it had no right to be powered. He staggered forward, the pull of the Signal mixed with his desire to break it, letting him ignore the pain._

_ He set his hands on it, keeping his head ducked low, avoiding staring into it. It made sense to him, weirdly, that despite not looking into the television that he could still see images from it. A hallway. Bent and long, with a single door at the end, embossed with a massive Eye looking downwards. He pressed hard against the glass, until the static was so strong he lost feeling in his hands. Was that where he needed to go? It pulled at him. He took a step forward and-wait, no, no, he didn’t want to be taken, stop, WAIT- _

_A flash. He was spat out onto a field, his mind swimming, television behind him going dark and silent. He needed to keep going, needed to go back. He stood and ran into the thick of the woods._ )

Mono couldn’t run any further, not today. A recliner in a corner of a living room with knit throw blankets would be his bed. He slipped off the coat he’d been wearing and dully wondered how he’d managed to wear something so heavy with water for so long. Feeling smaller than ever, he buried himself in the blankets until he was an unrecognizable little lump, sniffled, and fell deeply asleep.


	5. Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Persons of interest and importance, is it worth being personable. How are you a person.

Tiny pitter pattering steps, a thud, the sound of pieces of glass being shuffled. Six listened intently, still bundled in the tablecloth nest but ready to bolt at any moment. Where could she go if something happened to see the hole in the wall, she thought. Looking above themself, they figured they might be able to climb up a ways to get away from grasping hands in a pinch, but the wall nails would hinder a lot of that journey. And the coat, she couldn’t leave the coat, the idea of leaving it made her feel nauseous.

Then, the mystery thing squeaked. Six exhaled through her nose, a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. It was just a rat. She groggily rested her head back down, a bit annoyed. The rat continued to scavenge around, its own little footsteps being joined by another of its kind. Six was sure there were at least three, judging by the scurrying sounds and sporadic squeaks. She made sure her hands and feet were covered, the pests had a habit of nipping exposed digits.

Being such a light sleeper, they couldn’t drop back to sleep, hearing all this movement had them on edge. But they were warm and still sore and the tablecloth was a decent texture. The yellow raincoat had left a little puddle on the ground beneath it. Six stared at it. It evoked memories of having spent way too long fleeing from place to place. ( _A place near the sea, with so many captives like her, kept in little cages._ )

Most had given up, it was all just too much. Six didn’t give up. They weren’t alone, back then, there were still people running, making paths as best they could. Monsters with terrifying powers threatening them at every turn. Monsters trying to appeal to other monsters, who saw the children not as people but as things.

Surely there was a place out there in the world that wasn’t like this, as corrupted and rotten as where she’d already run from and where she was now. That thought had kept her running, that surely it all couldn’t be so crooked. The children had come from many places, spoke with many voices until they were smothered one by one, for speaking up, for being noticed when not wanted as they were. Until all that was left were ones who had learned ways of being unnoticeable.

Most accomplished that by giving up. All their will gone from them, small shells of people waiting for the nightmare to end. Some learned to be sneaky. To take without asking, move in secret and act like they hadn’t gone at all, to lie so effectively that it became their truth. Before, such behavior may have had Six called “Bratty” or “Selfish”, but it was what they learned to do to get by. ( _It was too dangerous to all work together, but then, that kid had tried to help anyways, and Six tried to help them and then-_ )

Six felt a rat wander into their little space. It crawled over her covered arm, taking a couple steps, sniffing inquisitively, and then taking a couple more steps. It made its way to the small puddle beneath the raincoat and Six watched it take an experimental sip, whiskers twitching and dark beady eyes wide and alert. ( _The other child had been so bright. They were a complete stranger but went out of their way to help, a mutual bid for escape. Six at first only saw glimpses of them, small bursts of color, but then they were running the same way. Sprinting. A garden of fake things, desperation in Six’s heart, monster fast on their heels, but she couldn’t keep up, she slipped. The other child ran on without her, locked the door behind them. She had to get up and go on with her own strength._ )

The rat had noticed the raincoat, standing up on two legs, little pink hands reaching up as it sniffed. Little squeaks, what could a thing like it think of that raincoat. Was its history woven into it now, able to be picked up in bits and pieces as smells of faraway places, or was it washed away. By the ocean or by the rain. ( _Six had caught back up, the other child still running. From that fake thing that still pretended to be a person, that had taken away all the other childrens’ personhood. Six slid down the cliff, the sharp rocky ocean below, terrified, so clumsy they hated how clumsy they were. Dangling from a gnarly root. The other child needed to keep running or else the monster would get her too, and yet, she stopped. She stopped to save Six._ )

Another rat entered the crawlspace, conversational squeaks with its companion. Different shades of brown. ( _Why. Why why. The cliff was so narrow, skinny ledges hanging over the ocean, Six raced to keep up with their rescuer and the monster still angrily chasing. A boulder. Six pried it loose, desperate to stop that monster, crush it even, for making them feel like they didn’t get to be real anymore, for daring to try and act like they deserved to be so spoiled while Six was. Six was. The rock tumbled and fell. And yet. And yet. The monster got back up. The other child was chased off of the cliff by the monster, both plunged into the ocean, Six hadn’t helped at all._ )

One of the rats had managed to reach the yellow raincoat, pink paws gripping the bright trim. Six saw it snuffle and then bite the material. She punched the rat, sending it sidelong. It made shrieking panic noises, bolting out of the space with its companion. With a smooth motion, Six tugged the raincoat on. They were dry enough now.

The city was creaking and tilting. Six could feel rumbles in the soles of their feet and hear distant crashing, buildings tumbling down. She crawled out from her hiding space and tried to measure what way of travel would be best. Being up high sounded too risky, but being caught on the ground between falling skyscrapers with cracked impassable roads also sounded terrible. They had to go somewhere more stable.

As Six pondered this, they heard a crackle sound. Electricity. They turned to see the source, the television switched on on its own. Blank white, and then a high pitched tone, like tinnitus. The tone then distorted, flickered like morse, and the screen blipped dark. Six inhaled, crawling cautiously along the floor, trying to get objects between themself and the noisy box.

( _It didn’t feel quite real at first, everything felt like it was happening to a body that just happened to be Six, as she saw herself lost in the Tower. All Six could think of was just the present. No future seemed possible. The past was torturous to even consider. She felt so hollow, helpless, caged again. Cold metal tin being warmed by her hands, crank twirling slowly. There wasn’t going to be anywhere else to go, they couldn’t imagine anything beyond this._ )

Another tone, beeps, and Six felt the hairs on their neck stand on end as the screen was completely filled with the image of an eye. The eye moved. She ducked down, covering her head. It cast sharp unnatural light across the floor as its gaze searched the room. Six watched the floor, afraid of a large shadow appearing where the light spilled, only to see that the television would flicker off in intervals. Like it was blinking. The blinks, she realized, matched with when the droning tone spiked and cut off, returning with the sound of power coming back to the internal tubing of the television.

( _The same song, over and over again, a melody with no words and so overplayed in her head that it lacked an emotion, it represented just. Being. A tune she knew so well it couldn’t surprise her. Disrupted then by a voice that pulled them back from the trance. A hand over their own, trying to pull them towards a future of things they couldn’t predict. It had no appeal to Six anymore. Why couldn’t he just sit for once._ )

Seeing this as an opportunity, Six timed her running to the next hiding spot with the television’s blinking. She needed to find something she could throw. Something sturdy. The bottles wouldn’t do, they were likely to break apart on impact. A bottle opener, on the other hand, lay on the floor, in the open where it’d fallen when Six had taken the tablecloth.

( _Sharp pain. Why. Didn’t he know she was tired. It would have been easier for her to handle him just smacking her directly with the hammer, but no, he had to take away her ability to give up. He was daring her to move and she resented that. Did he care at all about how tired she was? This was the only thing she understood anymore, this music box._ )

If she moved fast enough, timed it right, she could grab it and chuck it at the t.v. and break it. Six had to believe they were fast enough.

( _He broke it entirely. Despite how much it pained her, how he yelled at her, it hurt in a way Six hadn’t expected. She knew it was just her trying to give up, like the other kids had, and he didn’t let her, it wasn’t a choice she got to have. The fresh clarity stung. She had to run again, frustrated with him, with herself._ )

And so when the unnatural light clicked off, Six ran and snatched up the tool and flung it as hard as she could. Her heart caught in her throat as she saw the screen turning back on, eye just beginning to register her presence, as the metal end struck glass and shattered it. They did it.

( _In spite of that hurt, she had to stop and help him. What great, terrifying, lengths this kid had gone to to keep Six moving forward. When his hand grasped hers it made everything click into place. She’d never gotten a good look at his face before, he kept it hidden, even when playing with other hats he’d quickly look away from Six, shyness she had thought. Mono’s eyes were like dark screens, his body had shook like t.v. noise every time he’d shouted, the shadow things he would run to as they traveled, the way he pushed himself into the screen to grab her when it was solid glass when she’d tried to escape. Six felt hollow. The thoughts that raced to mind that would normally scare her instead only brought disgust._

_ She thought of the monsters who’d kept her captive before. The one who’d raged and knocked her rescuer into the sea. The ones who catered to that pretender, bringing to her children to act as companions, made into dolls when they didn’t do as she wanted. The larger monsters so cared for the other that they did such monstrous things. _

_Was Mono a person. Were people able to do the things he did. Did Mono have any control of it. Was he also pretending._ )

The television was a broken sparking box now. Six huffed, nerves settling. From now on, she was going to break every one she saw.

———-

Mono stirred from his little blanket cocoon. He felt like he was pressed too far into the cushions and shuffled to try and get some space, his whole right side sore. He went to push away from the back of the recliner only to find it was at an angle he didn’t remember it being at before. He perked his head up and out from the covers, confused. The whole room was tilted.

His heart started to race. He needed to get up and out of this building before it went completely sideways with him in it. He wondered how he had slept through it so far, surely the building would have creaked and cracked loudly enough to have woken him. He quickly started to his feet only to freeze as he landed on the floor. The ground groaned.

Sudden movement was bad. He needed to be more careful. Walking as though he were on ice, Mono took slow deliberate steps, trying to keep his minuscule weight spread as he went to recover his coat.

It was still lightly damp but not cold, he figured it would dry the rest of the way as he wore it. He inched his way through the living room and into a kitchenette area. It was an awkward angle but if he slid out some drawers he could make a path up onto the counter and get out the window. He still ached but it was easier to do now.

From the counter, he could see outside, and wasn’t comforted at all by the view.

An entire row of buildings were falling over, like massive dominoes, with the one he was occupying leaned against another, just barely holding up. The rain had let up to just a light drizzle now but the water being slower to pool didn’t halt the structures collapse. It was surreal, from this angle he could see the sides of the tilted buildings, with rooms still lit up, only the televisions no longer played music or news reels.

He just heard some weird beeping noise, echoing throughout the city.

If he could make it up the gutters, he thought, back up onto the roof, it would be easier to get a ways away from the buildings that were breaking apart. In practice, the apartment shifted two inches downward abruptly, bricks and sheetmetal raining onto the street below, while Mono clung to the gutter that bent way too easily. Faster, he needed to race against it.

With renewed life-threatening circumstances to compete against, Mono sped along the side of the building, using every climbing trick he knew. There wasn’t room for being careful, when a place he gripped gave way he kicked up and sought purchase on a new one. Pulling up over onto the roof wasn’t the end of it, he could feel it sliding further.

He sprinted, up against the tilt, if he didn’t he wouldn’t be up high enough to reach the neighboring skyscraper. He could hear the crunchy thunks and thuds of furniture colliding with walls inside, quickening its descent. He reached the edge and leapt, finding purchase on an antenna pole that was bent just enough for him to grab. Mono tried to climb up it only to slip, a frightened gasp, then landed unceremoniously on a deck.

He was alive still.

Mono peered over the edge, daring to look at what nearly killed him. It was a mass of rubble and rotten wood and just. Stuff. he could see bodies, he was pretty sure it was bodies. He’d been seeing so many it was hard to really feel much about it anymore.

( _Did they still count as people?_ )

An old thought that bubbled with weird connotations in his mind. He was pretty sure he’d come to the conclusion that the Viewers had stopped being people, but trying to think of what it was they lost that made him feel so certain of that left him confused.

The bullies were easy for Mono to put aside as Not People. Their heads were like dolls, mean toy-like things, he felt no pity for them, but it still felt stressful and strange when they lunged at him and he cracked them back to the floor with a hammer. ( _They had dragged Six like an object, strung her from the ceiling. Mono felt a bit vengeful as he popped each of the rude things on the head, and then focused on how relieved he was that Six wasn’t dead._ )

The mannequins were also easy for him to describe as Not People. They were like pieces of people picked apart, moved only in darkness, not a full Person. ( _It wasn’t the plastic that grabbed for Mono like he was some pest that needed to be dealt with. The disembodied hands were fleshy, tissue and bone. Why were they so angry.)_

The twisted transformed faceless bodies of the adults however. He knew they were people once, they just. Somehow weren’t anymore. ( _They couldn’t be, when they were so terrible, to chase him so violently into pools of electrified water, reaching up as though to throttle him. When they ran off into the chasm below so blindly, no care at all for their own safety._ )

Mono swallowed thickly. He needed to keep going, at least until the buildings looked like they weren’t tilting over onto their sides anymore.


	6. Aimless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where to next, what could be there, little steps forward, blindly.

Thin planks scaffolded across tears in the road, bridging the cracks, like unfinished stitches trying to close a wound. People had had the time and thought to build them, string clotheslines in the air, work around the growing decay. Unlike the planks haphazardly nailed into trees back in the forest, some of these bridges had actual supporting shapes, more likely to be the workmanship of adults.

There were other signs of attempted but futile normalcy like that dotted across the landscape. Bus stops with carry-on suitcases left tucked under the bench, newspapers open and soggy on the seat, empty clothes in the placement of where a person may have sat, a broken television dangling from the power pole above. Ashtrays in houses with the remains of a lit cigarette smoldering still, piles of used dishes stacked around sofas, stacks of small cages with rats against back walls. People had spent time packing bags, grocery carts with part of someone’s list sat still in them, to lay out extension cords to keep televisions playing from as many places as possible.

Like it’d all been normal, just little accidents the adults couldn’t be fussed to fully tend to. Six didn’t believe it was normal, couldn’t, because this shouldn’t be what they would find if they kept going. Somewhere else, she thought, I just need to be somewhere else.

Six carefully, but quickly, strode across one of the skinny bridges that spanned a wide chasm. The road had split in such a way that buildings were partially collapsed across it, hitting their neighbors and stopping part-way, unintended arches that were just pausing their inevitable destruction. The rain was softer now, not the harsh downpour from before, but still blanketed the City with a sky so overcast there was no way to tell if it was day or night. The Tower was visible, the divide between skyscrapers giving Six an uncomfortable reminder of its presence. Its light at the top of it was paler, more easily missed in the ambient cold light, and as Six stared ( _it kept pulling her gaze towards it, it wasn’t hard to look away, but without some other thing keeping their attention, Six’s eyes subconsciously drifted up_ ) it looked almost like it was flickering.

A bit like a bulb burning out, only there was more of a pattern to it. A sign of something Six didn’t understand.

Six kept marching onward. It was easier now, in some ways, than before. ( _Her hand was grasped so firmly it was actually almost alarming. It wasn’t as though the boy had just grabbed her, Six had been given the option and accepted, Mono holding his arm out to her in silent request. He then strode forward with such purpose Six felt like she may be dragged if she didn’t hurry to keep up._ ) They hopped up piles of garbage to get on top of a dumpster, using it as a boost over a fence, landing in more refuse. More of the buildings here were like shops rather than homes. If Six knew of it, they may have referred to this as a market street.

It at least was recognized by Six as progress, different sights meant moving onward. They just needed to keep the momentum. ( _Anywhere but here, Six thought, it is worth being anywhere but here, as they sat alone on a raft that floated across the sea. They couldn’t see the cliffs anymore._ )

- **thWUMP** -

A sickly body smacked into the ground maybe some ten feet from them. Six gritted their teeth. There were residents still left, plummeting from above, and Six hated how they startled her. She picked up a rock and threw it at the corpse, dinging its head. ( _The whole place smelled of rot and cleaning alcohol, vile, Six wondered if his mask helped with that at all or if it left him trapped with the stench long after. He hopped into the body box, braver than Six was willing to be at this moment, and Six, trusting he knew what he was doing, pushed the boy through the cabinet._ )

The body shuddered. Six bolted away from it, she may be spiteful but wasn’t stupid. However far it’d fallen from, it hadn’t been far enough. ( _One of the cabinets had something banging around in it with a scary amount of force. Six threw herself against the door, barricading it, trying to buy the boy some time to deal with the disembodied hand that was lunging at his face. Their heart pounded and they couldn’t help the panicked whimper as they tried to hold strong._ ) A chainlink fence, she pulled at the bottom of it until it was bent up enough for her to crawl under.

A smell caught their attention. Sweet, fresh, something warm. It reminded Six that they felt annoyingly empty and for a second she held her sides in fear, thinking of how what she thought was a mix of panic and exhaustion made what were usually dull annoying stomach grumbles into a near unbearable emptiness at the worst time possible. ( _Seeing him in a ball, immobile and clear pain, confused her so much. They were still angry, felt like they’d been tricked, and yet. She threw the brick, some outlet for the frustration, get the noise to stop. The silence of the now destroyed television was deafening. Hollowness growing in her guts. Seeing him look at her now, with sadness of all things, with those eyes that shouted “monster, a monster”, made Six feel. Unbearably empty. She was stupid to have let this happen._ ) That pain didn’t come this time, instead it was just a whisper of plain hunger.

Sighing with relief, Six sniffed the air, curious of what that smell was coming from. Following it led to an open vent beside a door that had a locked iron grate over it, warm steam rising. There was a gutter that ran up the wall close enough to it for Six to climb, which she did, going headfirst into the vent.

———-

Mono was lightheaded, trying his best to take safer routes across the roofs of the City. Still tired, he figured, must not have slept long enough, but no use lamenting lost sleep, he was on his feet now and needed to. Needed to...

He didn’t know what he needed to do anymore.

His stomach churned anxiously, a small rumble. Ah, he hadn’t eaten for a while. When had he last ate? He couldn’t remember. Had Six been able to eat, he asked himself. Guilt electrified him at the thought of the other child being alone and starving. But no, no, he caught himself. It would be very selfish and mean of him to try and go back when Six so clearly didn’t want to be around him. Six was a very capable kid. ( _Like some bright signpost, Six leapt over the gap onto the top of the elevator. Just as smoothly, she landed another great jump onto a platform with a rug half hanging off of it. They motioned for Mono to follow, so he swallowed any doubts and jumped._ )

He had to think of himself now, what to do next. The weight of such a thing was threatening to make his knees buckle. Before, it’d been so easy, his mind focused on just the Signal Tower. Determined to chase it down on his own terms, destroy it, and then everything would... ( _A nightmare, absolute nightmare, the other kid had been taken again and Mono was so helpless, stalked now by this towering figure, a strange man who exuded strangeness, made his head feel like it was going to split in two. Mono knew he needed to run but as he ran he felt like he was in slow motion, pulling against a magnet that was trying to rip him apart. The worst part was how he could see the Thin Man take his time, like he knew Mono wasn’t getting away at all._ )

Dread. Cold, deep, an undercurrent that pulled just a bit beneath his current train of thought, waiting to drown him in doubts. Because, even though he had faced the Tower, even though he had fought against the Thin Man, things were still horrible. It didn’t flash and magically get better. The City was falling apart into ruin, the Viewers were still faceless husks, so many people were still gone, and he knew without a doubt that the whole world hated him deeply for it.

He pushed past it, just as how he had to push down this pole to make a bridge for himself. It was so hard to do alone but he needed to. He couldn’t sit still like that, he did have a goal right now anyways, if a small one. Get a bite to eat. One thing at a time, that’s how he would go on.

Mono moved onward, and a little bit downward. Crows were gathering on the wires, their caws mixing with the ongoing beeps coming from the still active televisions.

———-

Six pressed through a grate and plopped onto hard wood flooring. It was dry in here, surprisingly so, with it feeling like her feet were coated with a layer of dry dust. There were stacks of paper and cloth bags and crates with empty milk bottles. Being inside of the building now the smell got a bit more complicated.

The sweet warm part was still present, now mixed with a tang of soured milk and something sort of chalky. There were notes of mold permeating around but it was mostly buried under the others. Six tiptoed along, cautious of what it was coming from, curious if it meant she could find something filling.

The door to the next room was ajar, Six sidling past it. More piles of stuff, shelves, stacked with jars and sacks full of powdery things, most of it white, some of it in other assorted colors, reds, browns, yellow. Six was curious, opening a jar of white granular powder. She sniffed it, it smelled plain, and dipped a finger in it to taste.

Ah! Sugar. She licked her hand and shoved it into the jar until it was coated. They then continued on their way, messily licking the sugar off their fingers.

Six, with a lot of effort, pulled a milk crate to where she could reach the next door’s handle. Things were much heavier to move around on their own, but they needed to. Swinging from the handle was a little thrilling, though the landing reminded them they were still very beat up from all their other escapades. ( _Dragged up a ladder, kicking and struggling, Six felt rage and desperation. Mono got hit by the locker, were they on their own now, was this it. The doll thing, an outright bully, clapped a hand over her mouth stifling her yells. Six bit it, tasting leather and weird fake things, thrashing as much as she could. She broke their hold and scrambled to make a break for it, feeling a floorboard give just before she was knocked unconscious._ )

A hallway, stairs going up to their left, an open door with a stairwell going down on their right, and another room ahead of them with light spilling from beneath its door, the sweet smell coming from it. The sacks of stuff out here were torn and spilled across the floor, down the stairwell, and as Six peered down it she was met with the sight of an insurmountable amount of bread and tossed pastries. This was where the mold smell was coming from.

Now where was the sweet one from?

Six found a hole in the floorboards that dropped into a crawlspace. With practiced steps, they crawled in the dark, bits of light leaking in from where the flooring was coming apart. She could hear something now, the further she went.

Metal on glass, something being smooshed, objects being moved. Six’s hearing strained to make sense of it, not able to see any movement above. Whatever it was, it was standing in the middle of the lit room, Six searching from below for a discreet way up. Another hole in the floor, hard to see as it was under a table and didn’t let much light in below, perfect.

Carefully, quietly, Six knelt and peeked out from under the table.

There was an adult wearing a filthy apron stirring a bowl of batter with oddly bumpy arms. They had no head. In place of where it should be, cords and stretched skin went upwards, up into a television.

———-

Mono tried to not think too hard about things, but it was hard when he needed to think about how he was going to get to the next place without harming himself. He’d managed to get so far while on his own for so long, he felt terrible for having relied so much on someone else. How burdensome he must have been. ( _Six braced, holding the railing and stretching out their hand to Mono. They were up so high, and this jump was further than others he could remember, many stories up above the streets. And yet Six was waiting, ready, like they knew he could do it. If Six believed Mono could make it, he’d try._ )

He looked wearily at the neighboring deck and the one he stood on now. Could he make it? Crows, stacked on clothing and power lines, were watching him. It was an audience the boy wasn’t sure he wanted, they seemed interested less in his success and more in his misfortune. Mono could see into a kitchen from here, it looked pretty dry and secure, and hoped it’d have some goodies.

The more he thought about it, the more Mono thought, darkly, that he really didn’t have much to lose if he didn’t make the jump. If he made it, he may finish his goal and get something to eat, if he didn’t...

Mono got as far back as he could to build up speed and then leapt, reaching his arms forward. The crows cawed raucously. It was far, further than he had planned on, the reality of him not making it made his blood run cold in anticipation. His hands painfully made contact with and gripped the edge of the deck, metal groaning and bending at the impact. Mono hissed between his teeth, the force of the landing harshly reminding him he wasn’t exactly well at the moment. He still had the will to pull himself up, and did, getting back to his feet.

The kitchen was fairly clean, which was a promising sign to Mono. It meant rats hadn’t been up here to pull it apart and that the elements hadn’t gotten in to rush things to waste. The boy flung open the fridge first. A lot of things were spoiled to mush, produce more like puddles. A block of cheese caught his attention. He could wipe off the outside and it’d be fine.

He searched the cupboards as well. Many of the cans he found were oddly swollen, a sign of things he did not want. His efforts were rewarded when he found a tin and pulled it down from a shelf. Inside were some butter cookies, lightly sweet things, perfectly fine to eat, though stale.

Cheese and cookies, a very fine meal, Mono thought, eating chunks of the cheese between two cookies like little sandwiches. He tried to not think about how, once he finished eating, he would have to decide again on what to do next.


	7. Awareness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self-awareness, to be wary, to see things around yourself, inside yourself. Do you enjoy being aware of what’s going on.

It was unnerving, to say the least. Six sat in darkness, watching this thing go through its motions. It finished mixing the batter, set the bowl down, and took a couple steps to scoop a handful of white powder, flour? It sprinkled the dust over the countertop which already was caked with crusty layers of dough. The wires it was attached to remained taught, like a tether, the thing’s movements stilted as it went back to its original place and started to knead the dough.

Being backlit by the television gave the monster a cold silhouette, contrasting with the warmth of the kitchen and the yellow-orange lamp-light of the lighting fixtures in the ceiling. The thing’s movements were lethargic, a bit slowed, which became more obvious when it reached for a pan. It’s hand did circular movements, like it thought it was still stirring, before grasping the pan.

Six pondered if there was an easy way to destroy that tube television it dangled from.

There were plenty of utensils in here, but meant for users far larger than Six. She wished she had greater strength, athletics came easy, but hefting great weighty things wasn’t their forte. The walls, however, were promising. Many shelving units and open cupboards, jars and boxes and randomly placed loaves of bread. The television was plugged into a socket in the ceiling and somewhat precariously set on a broad shelf, barely held by its antenna being twisted around nails screwed into the wall.

The thing, deeply invested in baking, didn’t seem to have any way Six could discern as being able to see. It looked to have a set amount of space it could use, too, leashed. Maybe, Six thought, she could sneak by it and get to those shelves. If they pushed it just right, maybe the t.v. would crush the monster and break apart in one go.

( _She could see it, knelt on the ground, on hands and knees scribbling nonsense onto the floor. Six hated it. Hated that bully so much. Her hands were shaking a bit as her vision tunneled onto just the animated doll. Grab it. Break it. Smash it into the floor. Just as Six moved to stalk towards it, her hand was quietly scooped by Mono’s, interrupting the rage threatening to boil over. Six stared hard at the boy, trying to figure out why. He tugged them along, over to a hammer, letting go of Six to pick it up. She took a deep breath and exhaled a weary sigh when the boy crushed the doll with one swing._ )

What had this thing done to make Six want to break it. She paused, small shallow breaths in the dark. Why was she angry with this one? They couldn’t think of any reason, feeling a chill up their spine, watching this monster baking bread with no apparent awareness of its situation.

———-

Mono was on the move again. He dumped the crumbs left in the tin onto the ground outside, which pleased the crows a good deal. They were very confident birds, flying down in front of him to peck at the new interesting food.

He watched them for a moment, finding an odd sort of peace in seeing the birds make chatty squawks as they, in his eyes, playfully pushed eachother and threw bits of crumbs into the air. He preferred seeing them like this over the earlier fears of being their next meal. Though, Mono thought, he wasn’t quite in a position to say he couldn’t still become one.

( _Under a tree, through a burrow in the dirt, Mono wandered, hearing something faintly. It was something he nearly missed, an electrical crackle with almost a musical whine to it. He followed it, finding a dead animal in a bear trap. Beside it a shadowy, dark, glitching figure of a child stood. He watched them angrily kick at the animal’s corpse. Mono reached out to them and as he hugged the shadow his head buzzed, arms tingled, as it vanished away. A profound unhappiness went through him like a wave. Was it selfish of him to do this? They were gone now, because of his touch._ )

Mono climbed up the gutter, using piping to walk around along the side of the building. The City was ringing with the sound of televisions beeping some strange signal, a form he hadn’t seen before. A rhythm that wasn’t musical, echoing over and over. Where had the jingles gone, the warped recordings of newscasters talking about subscriptions, what was this new sound meant to appeal to.

As Mono walked he listened to the sound, he couldn’t help it really. There wasn’t much else for him to be doing, except focus on not falling while he kept going. He could see rooms he passed lit by t.v. screens. A cold light.

A steel beam, bolted between buildings to help keep them from sagging, acted as a bridge for Mono. More windows to more places that were once homes. ( _Where had he lived? Was it nice? Would it be worth finding? Was there anything left to find?_ ) Mono could see there were still Viewers. He hopped up and trotted along the railing, noting he was very high up still. Whatever slight confidence he may have had from being outside while the Viewers were inside was shattered the moment he saw one pacing around its apartment and stop to look at him, ignoring the still playing television right in front of it.

———-

Six swallowed down the misplaced anger, this wasn’t how she should vent it. This was stupid, even if they wanted all these t.v.’s gone, it wasn’t worth all the deadly what-ifs. But still, what an awful thing. Six wished she could lift a hammer. Wanted to break something, to feel at least a little bit in control.

( _Mono had left them alone in the hallway, he was in pursuit of another fuse to get the door open, taking the flashlight with him, leaving Six by themself to wonder if he’d continue to be so unbelievably lucky. The mannequins were awful, Six couldn’t pin down what specifically she despised most. The disorganized parts, some like hooks, others closer to toy-like hands and legs, the unfinished messes that acted as heads. The fact that their torsos were very much flesh and bone and stunk horribly. Or the way they moved, stuttering and unnatural, while she has to watch helpless from behind metal bars while Mono tries to deal with it on his own._ )

Priorities, Six needed to focus on their true priorities right now. She wanted to collect some filling warm food and go along her way, leave behind this messed up place with its messed up residents. This place had fresh food still being made, this baker toiling away for who knows how long, the floorboards where it stood sagging from prolonged weight.

If she used one of the open sacks, Six could probably make off with a sizable stack of goods. Enough food to buy her a few days of travel without needing to stop to scavenge. That thought was pleasant, enough so for Six to begin to stealthily crawl along, eyes sharp for what all they wanted to get.

The Baker, dough now in a pan and lightly dusted across the top, moved a couple paces, arm reaching out for a drawer. Six paused, holding a bag she was preparing to take, watching the movement. Its arm reached as far as it could, the body of the baker standing stiffly with their cords taut, and then its arm just. Kept going. A sickly leathery popping sound. ( _The shadow of the body of a woman was cast on the wall, Six and Mono around the corner of where it stood in an open doorway. A horrible sound, one that made Six tense in anticipation, seeing the body’s head rejoin the shoulders, from a long, long, long neck that had just retracted itself. The door closed._ )

Six dumped the remaining contents of the sack on the floor, glancing over her shoulder every so often to keep track of the Baker. It had set the tin into the drawer and retrieved another similar one, only the dough had risen to a fluffy puffy shape. With the same leathery crackling noise, the arm retracted, the body took a couple paces, and then reached both arms, one stopping to slip on a mitt, opening an oven, and then swapping the tray it held for a pan already in the oven. It smelled sweet and delicious, despite how upsetting the state of its maker was.

Six examined some of the rolls on the floor, stashing ones that seemed fresher into the sack. Quietly, fill up the bag and then go.

Six was making good progress in filling her bag of goodies when a new sound sent her scurrying for cover. Something was moving outside of the kitchen. Footsteps on the stairs. They hid behind a pile of ingredients, wondering what their possible avenues of escape were.

More thuds, then she saw it. A resident, skin sallow and face like their skin had been stretched and glued back like one solid mass, was bumbling around, leaning on the entryway of the kitchen. This must mean there’s a way open outside, Six thought. This also meant that she now was in a tight space with two monsters.

Six thought of the hole in the floor. It lead back to the room with the stairwells. If they could be discreet, sneak along and up, they could be free. Six crawled, sack on her back, across the floor to the table that hid the hole. Six felt more secure under the floor, at least, they did before the resident stepped on the sagging floorboards where the Baker was.

The ground creaked and groaned dangerously. Six hurried to get back to the other room, the resident making bizarre noises. Metal falling, hitting? Some sort of scuffle, then a snap. The floor gave out, shaking Six, the planks she stood on bending, threatening to pin her.

The resident was chucked across the room, Six could hear it slam into a far wall. A creaking noise, an entire shelving unit was falling over, a mountain of things cracking onto the floor, glass shattering. The entrance she’d used before was covered by debris and they could see the Baker stuck in the new hole in the floor. With the shift in the light, Six could see another grate now, back behind the Baker.

Moving quickly, Six beelined for the vent. A hand. The Baker was reaching a hand down, feeling around, trying to unstick itself. Six did their best to crawl around it, scared to even really breathe. She had to set down the bag to pull the grate.

As she pulled, Six had a terrible realization. It was heavy.

( _The Doctor had knocked over shelf after shelf, Six could hear the bedsprings squealing in distress as the monster squashed them down one by one, chasing the children relentlessly. A furnace, Six could see a furnace, she ducked behind the door of it and, after seeing the monster rush into it, swung the door shut._ _Mono was in there too. Six needed to get him out. Metal blinds covered a vent, Six pulled at them, the edges cutting into their hands. Six wasn’t strong enough to pop the whole thing off. She was terrified when she only was able to loosen it, but Mono’s hands appeared from the other side, yanking the metal hard._ )

Six pulled and pulled, the grate straining against her. It popped, but wasn’t off, Six’s panic rising. The Baker reacted, hand drifting in circular motions towards them. Six ducked away, rushing to get space between themself and the monster. Thinking fast, Six grabbed a bit of trash and chucked it at the Baker’s feet. Its hand recoiled, going back looking for what had brushed it, boards strained beneath it.

Frustration boiled in her blood. Too weak, too stupid, too horribly vulnerable. Six hated it. She threw a jar, it shattered into pieces. The hand pressed to see what hit it and then flailed in pain, glass splinters in its palm. The reaction caused the Baker to sink further into the floor, Six could hear the cords that tethered it to the television hum. The monster shuffled its feet, trying to find purchase, but only sunk more, the shelf that supported the television creaking.

Six grabbed at the grate again, pulling hard. The metal twisted and fought but finally relented, Six grabbed the sack of food and dove in, just in time for the Baker to fall just a bit further, the nails in the wall giving out, television falling and crashing and spreading a disastrous mess of glass and crumbling body.

———-

Mono’s first response was stupefied confusion. There was a television right here, obviously on and shining light on this figure before him. And yet they looked away, they were clearly seeing him without having a face to see with. Since when did the Viewers ignore the Signal-ah.

Mono’s second response was to run as fast as he possibly could without careening off of the roof.

The guttural clicking wail of the resident made his skin crawl, the sound of it slamming against its window let him know he shouldn’t stop running. As he ran, more cries joined the first, he could hear glass shattering. He leapt across a gap and quickly looked back behind himself to confirm how much of a head start he had. There were at least five, maybe more, of the Viewers coming after him, and that was all he needed to see.

( _Heavy rain, clunky remote grasped tightly in his hand, running for his life through a store stuffed with electronics. A horde of residents on his heels, arms outstretched, they were shoving one another in their haste to get at him._ )

He needed a way to get far away from them, to hide. Mono looked to the clotheslines. Hundreds of crows, perched everywhere. He could feel the thundering footsteps of his chasers through the tin roofing he was crossing. A bent antenna, fallen from a broken t.v., hung from one of the lines just a bit beneath him. There wasn’t time to consider all the risks, he needed to go, so he leapt and grabbed it, using it like he did the hangers before.

A resident went falling past him, a sickening crunch below, Mono clinging to the wire, sliding fast. Crows flew into chaos, loud caws. Mono felt the line bounce and, to his horror, one of the residents was trying to get on it themselves. The line snapped, Mono held tight to the antenna, a loud gasp. Against all odds, the wire caught another line, sending the boy flying onward still, birds everywhere, trying to fly up from the disturbance, black feathers clouding his vision, the beeping chorus of televisions ringing in his ears.

He crashed into partially open shutters, bent antenna wrenched from his hands. wings buffeting his head, then was falling. Mono fell blindly and landed roughly onto a rug, so hard the wind was knocked from him.

His eyes were screwed shut from shock, brain catching up to the fact that he was still alive. He took small shaky breaths, slowly reaching to feel that he was still all there. Both arms, both legs, head still attached. The beeping was so loud. It was actually beginning to sound less like noise and more like a thing.

Mono covered his face with his hands, breathing a bit more heavily. He wished it were quiet. His head hurt so much. Everything was terrible. He didn’t know what to do.

The sound didn’t change so much as it seemed to focus. The boy couldn’t help but to hear it. He thought maybe he was just hearing what he wanted to hear.

A voice, faint, distorted. Steadily it grew clearer, the hectic noise becoming something with meaning.

“Mono.”

He held his breath, wondering if he was hearing right.

“Mono.” A child’s voice. Whose voice? They didn’t sound hoarse or wispy at all.

“Mono.” He wearily sat up, lowering his hands.

A television dangled from a cord through a hole in the floor above, upside-down, an eye staring at him through it.


	8. Craving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can be starved of more than just food.
> 
> (this one took me a bit longer than anticipated)

Mono felt cold. The bodily pain he’d just been experiencing was overtaken with the feeling of being dunked in ice, fear, his head buzzing. He looked at the eye in the television, confused disbelief, and felt his heart pulse uncomfortably in his ribcage. How did it look so viscerally tangible through the black and white screen? The Eye moved. He shut his eyes again. Don’t look, he told himself.

“Mono.”

The boy crawled onto his feet, small hands pushing up against the rug that’d barely softened his landing. He opened his eyes only when he was certain he was looking at the floor. He walked away from the television’s light, away from the gaze he could feel on his skin, terror gripping him. The light felt magnetic, he had to consciously move his feet in shaky steps away and forward. Why did it speak with a child’s voice? His ears were ringing.

“Where are you going, Mono?”

It wasn’t as bad as the other times, actually, a weird and small spot of positivity for Mono. ( _It was so loud, the Signal, he felt helpless, shambling steps towards the light. He covered his head but it didn’t help much at all. Like he was splitting, but, some part of him said, but if you want to stop it you need to face it. The fact that it was inviting him scared him, the desire to grab it and end it compelled him to move._ ) The pull was present but weaker, he could move where he wanted to if he focused.

“Mono, please come back.”

What was speaking, exactly? It wasn’t just the one television, as he walked into the next room and shoved the door closed behind him, the voice was just as clear. He couldn’t recognize it, memories of brief words given by other children burned in his mind, tiny bits of contact. How many were gone forever now?

( _He paled, seeing how his introduction to this kid was getting no verbal response. Did he say something weird? Maybe it was a bit much to compliment her on their aim. He’d apologize for that too, he had a lot to apologize for. “I’m very sorry, about what happened in the forest. If you’re still upset at me that’s okay. My name’s Mono. What’s yours?”_

_ No reply again. Were they really mad? No, wait, they were tilting their head at him, he could see her mouthing his own words silently and frowning. Try again. “I’m Mono, who are you?” He gestured, from himself to her. _

_ He watched as the kid clenched their button up shirt in little fists, lips pursed. They were obviously listening to him speak. The other kid didn’t understand him. Mono pressed both his hands to his chest, “Mono.” Then he held his hands out to them, palms up, a requesting gesture. _

_The kid’s eyes lit up, recognition. “Six.” She said hoarsely, barely above a whisper, pointing at herself. He was incredibly happy, a name to call to. Then it hit him that they didn’t get any of his apology._ )

Mono started fast-walking downstairs, one hand on the shabby railing for stability. Away, trying to get away from that voice.

“We are trying to understand, Mono.”

His ears were ringing like tinnitus. He covered them with his hands despite already it wouldn’t work against this.

“Where are you going?”

“Away.” Mono croaked, surprised with himself for even replying. Cold light peering from cracks under doors. He refused to open them, instead changing course for an elevator. He pressed the lever down with all his might. The metal bars shut, the lift descending.

“There isn’t anywhere for you to be out there, Mono.” The child’s voice chided, echoing in the elevator, “You’re only safe here.”

Safe. That made Mono seethe. He didn’t feel safe, not one bit, not ever since that Transmission had started. Everything used to be normal. He used to. Used to... ( _Rows of beds. He sat on a chair beside one, little feet raised up away from the cold tile floor. He’d had shoes then. The person in the bed was asleep with thin sheets to cover them. Their breathing was a bit of comfort to him. But the sadness of them being here was heavy and weighed his head down, staring at his own hands in his lap._ ) What did he used to do?

No matter, he needed to go, needed to leave, to somewhere the voice couldn’t reach. How dare it try to sound so kindly, try to sound as something as innocent as another kid. The elevator stopped and Mono looked to his left and right. Water soundlessly dripping from the ceiling into buckets on the floor. A window to outside, open, frame falling apart. He grabbed a bucket and dumped it on the floor, flipping it upside down to use as a step stool.

Outside, good, keep going. It should be easier now.

“Come back, Mono, we miss you.”

What missed him? A horrible monster that had taken everything. Why would it miss him? Why could he still hear it speaking to him so clearly? He started down a ladder, kicking the bottom half to unstick it.

Mono could see crows flying away but their calls were distorted, like they were put through a filter of noise. He felt numb, headache still pressing at his temple. He hurried to get to the ground, if he was going to run fast he needed a bit more space.

“Mono come back.”

———-

Six crawled through the vent, trying to ignore how the sweet warm scent of baked goods was now mixed with sour meaty things. It’d been worth it for the food, she told herself, cloth bag being dragged along with her. A normal hungry rumble still made her anxious, nerves tense. She had been running a lot, Six told themself, they had spent such a long time in one place that the past couple days were a rush of adrenaline, it made sense if she were a bit more hungry than usual. That’s what they tried to placate themself with, anyways.

( _The cage was cramped, Six could stand sure but there wasn’t enough room to actually lay down. Leaning against the bars made their back ache, standing for so long only let her see a wall packed with crates of other children like her. So, Six sat in the middle, a small compact ball, resting her head on her knees._ )

There were rat traps in these vents, something Six had a time of working around.

( _A monster with a mask covering its mouth and sat in a wheeled chair reached up and plucked a row of cages down. Six was included. The children were let out, one by one, and pushed to stand in a line. One child thought this was their chance, they went to run. They would never run again. Six stood in line. She would find a chance, someday, somehow. A way out that wouldn’t lead to her being preserved in salt._ )

Some had already been triggered, desiccated rat bodies, torsos crushed. Not as bad as what had been witnessed in the hospital, but still unpleasant. The traps that were still armed and ready to end her own tiny life took some level of care to maneuver around. On a first attempt, when one was just partway in her way, Six had tried nudging it to the side. When the trap had been pressed to the wall, it was jostled just enough that when she went to back off it snapped, terrifyingly close, denting the vent when Six barely scooted away in time. It was an awful bang, the way it echoed in the enclosed space. She coughed, a hacking sort of cough. So close, too close.

( _The children were walked to a room with huge faucets and shower heads. It was less like a bath and more like being hosed down. Words Six didn’t understand, orders from the monster to take a towel she thought. The water hadn’t been freezing but Six felt very cold. They would be given food and then moved to a different sort of cage. Six wanted to break out of it_.)

From there on, Six made sure to take along bits of trash or debris to throw at the traps before passing. As the traps were set off, she could hear rats scurrying somewhere around her. Their own routes hidden in walls, for a moment Six thought of how often she’d been treated as vermin, and just as quickly as that thought had arisen bitter hollowness bloomed in her guts. Six broke off a piece of bread and chewed it, it tasted lightly sweet.

———-

Mono ran. He ran as best he could, his hearing tuned in to a station he desperately wanted to change the channel of. There were bodies and crows were eating them, crowing in distorted staticky blips when the boy disturbed them with his hasty ongoing retreat from whatever that voice represented. He hated it, that thing behind the voice.

It sounded like it was all around him, all of the buildings that still had power speaking at once, and yet it didn’t echo, it was just one voice, a signal directed at him.

“Mono, you were safe here.”

He didn’t know why it said that. It was a dirty lie.

“We want to see you again.”

He could feel it somehow, all of the still working televisions in the buildings around him, feel them looking for him. The sidewalk was crooked and cracked, he’d ran from so many things in so many places but he knew he was still prone to tripping. He fumbled a bit, kicking up bits of asphalt, and kept going. A distorted grinding noise was rising. Mono kept running.

“Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for you?”

A storefront with a wall of televisions, empty clothing littered across the ground, coming alive with cold light. Mono felt himself slow when the light covered him. Every screen had an eye, looking at him. He reached up to cover his face, wishing he hadn’t gotten rid of his mask. He was freezing up.

“Come back, Mono.”

Shaky breaths. “Leave me alone!” He yelled, the ground vibrating under his feet.

“You don’t mean that, Mono.” The child’s voice was level and clear. “You always wanted someone to pay attention to you. So, come back, We can take care of you.”

( _There were other children here but Mono felt desperately alone. Stacked beds, a curfew to keep up a routine, all of them had to dress uniformly. He felt faceless. He watched some t.v. while adults talked about things he couldn’t understand. Everything around him had still looked normal and yet he felt like his world was already gone._ )

“You ruined it!” Mono shouted through his hands. The ground shook. “You ruined everything!” Despite covering his eyes, the vision of a long hallway with a door with an eye embossed on it was burned into his vision.

“Mono, we promised we would look after you.” The voice said, “Everyone’s waiting, we brought everybody to see you. We want you to come back to us.”

Promise, what promise? Mono couldn’t remember making any promises like that. His mind was swimming, layers of noise and conflicting imagery. Things had been normal and then it all started to fall apart. He trudged onwards trying to escape the unnatural light that was making his skin feel so cold.

Mono felt so angry. “I’m never going back there.”

It felt like the voice laughed at him. “You’ve said that before, but you always come back to us. Do you know how long it’s been, Mono?” The voice asked.

For some reason, that shook Mono to his core. He clutched his own face so hard his nails were sharp against his skin. The droning static was rising with the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. ( _Like a flipbook, the Pale City started bright, sunlight and warmth and seagulls, then rotted right before his eyes. Bustling crowds slowed, congregated around televisions, thinned, until they were gone. Buildings drooped, rain pelted down, cracks forming in the roads widening into chasms. Rain and Fog and Snow back to Rain and Fog and-how could he have seen the snow so many times, how long had it been?_ )

The room downstairs in the cabin flickered in his vision. The sinking feeling as Mono remembered being weirded out by the state of it, the scores of tally-marks on the walls, the condition of the kid who he thought he had just seen, his heart felt so heavy. He had just seen them be taken, right? It had only been a day or two, right?

———-

Six popped out of the vents, having kicked out the covering grate, and was back on the streets of the city. A couple rats ran away from the bright yellow coated kid that had suddenly shown up. The beeping was nearly incessant now, something she’d been shielded from while crawling through spaces layered with insulation. Six looked up at the sky warily. It’d stopped raining, now a light mist, the sky still thickly overcast. The wires above were being covered with crows, who cawed discordantly, adding chaos to the televisions’ tones.

All the noise was making her anxious. She picked up a cord from a trash pile and used it to tie off the bag of bread and turn it into a makeshift backpack. They needed both of their hands free.

The ground shook. Not in the way it had when she was feeling distant skyscrapers toppling over, this was like the air itself had changed in pressure, the street quaking. Six took cautious plodding steps forward, head whipping around for signs of danger.

Another rumble. The crows were flapping their wings, black feathers floating down, wires waving back and forth. Six was looking for open space, terrified of falling debris. Antennas and satellite dishes crashed onto the street, broken metal. Six started running.

———-

“It’s alright, Mono.” Said the thing from all around him. “As many times as it takes, you will come back to us.”

Mono recognized it now, that voice. He hadn’t heard it in quite some time, they sounded so healthy and clear which is what had confused him so much.

( _Adults having conversations in the hallway, kids bouncing a ball against the wall behind him, Mono sat in front of a television. Things happening in faraway places he didn’t understand, he felt like the adults didn’t understand either. His head ached a little and he was trying to ignore it by listening to the man on the news channel use big words for him to sort out the meaning of, keeping himself busy in a way._

_ Then, the channel cut. Mono stood and thumped the top of the television, sometimes if he did that or held the wire it would come back on. What met his gaze when he looked to see if he’d fixed it were symbols. Triangles and eyes. _

_ Mono reached up for the antenna wire. Put the news back on, he thought, but as his little hand gripped it he felt his entire body go numb. Something buzzed in his brain, pictures, something bright, an eye looking at him. _

_Mono let go of the wire, falling to the floor with a little thump, the news was back on. An adult opened the door to the room to check on the noise, Mono absently looked up to them, a little dazed. They looked at him with horror._ )

It was his own voice.


End file.
